


A Perfect Pet?

by TheVulgarBookworm



Series: The Blood Triad [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, Anal Sex, Bestiality (Implied), Blood Drinking, Blood Magic, Breathplay, Brief Male Slash, Coercion, Double Penetration, F/M, Implied/Referenced Torture, Master/Slave, Multi, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rape/Non-con Elements, Ritual Public Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Severus Snape Lives, Sexual Slavery, Snape is not nice, Spoilers, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-10 04:00:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12903558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheVulgarBookworm/pseuds/TheVulgarBookworm
Summary: As the dust on the battlefield clears, Hermione knows two things: Voldemort has won and Lucius Malfoy has claimed her as a spoil of war. Now Voldemort wants a show and Lucius is on the clock. Will he break her in time or will he be cut down by his Dark Lord for failing to do so?





	A Perfect Pet?

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Not making money off this. 
> 
> A/N: This AU story picks up right at the end of the final battle. This is a little one-shot idea I came up with while working on a longer story. There's no real plot, just an excuse to write some smut. Not beta-read but edited, so any mistakes are my own. Additional tag that I would consider a spoiler is included at the end of the work for those who wish to know. Read the tags please. You have been warned! Seriously. No flames.

Lucius Malfoy smiled triumphantly as he fastened the collar around her throat. She should have known it would be Lucius Malfoy. All around her, Voldemort’s followers were claiming their rewards: her friends. Someone screamed in the distance and began sobbing quietly. Hermione didn’t know who. From the sounds, she didn’t want to know.

Aside from Lucius, only one Death Eater had approached her. Her filthy blood had kept most of them away from her, until one filthy, rat-faced man, Pettigrew that was his name, had shown a glimmer of interest. A single tear had threatened to fall as he had caressed the side of her face, his fetid breath too near for her liking, and she had begun shaking with terror, ashamed at how brave she wasn't. He had stepped closer, his intent clear, and then his hand had been violently snatched away, held in Lucius’ iron grip.

No words had been exchanged between them as they stared each other down in silent challenge. It had seemed to go on forever, cold grey eyes boring into hard blues, but Hermione knew it most likely took place over the course of mere moments. The rat-faced man had bared yellowed teeth at his challenger and ended up writhing on the ground under a particularly nasty _Cruciatus_ curse. Lucius had stepped over the thrashing body nonchalantly and claimed her for his own. No one else had dared challenge him.

With the collar, at last, snug about her throat, Lucius pulled on the attached chain roughly, forcing her onto her knees at his feet. Hermione coughed as the supple leather tightened on her windpipe and glared up at him. Her efforts earned her an insidious chuckle and several patronizing pats on the head. His gaze shifted from her to a point somewhere behind her. “My Lord, victory is ours,” he spoke for the first time since she had encountered him as he inclined his head respectfully to the wizard behind her.

“You surprise me, Lucius.” Voldemort’s voice slithered in her ear, just behind her shoulder. He was very close. She heard him sniff disdainfully. “I can smell the filth flowing through her veins.” Hermione bit the inside of her cheek to keep from lashing out at his words. The last thing she wanted was to anger him. She knew he wouldn’t kill her, not right away. Voldemort’s propensity for torture was legendary. She hated to admit, even to herself, that Lucius was the safer option. “All these tasty treats and you choose a mudblood?”

“I have history with this particular mudblood, my Lord. Breaking her will be the sweetest victory I can imagine.” Hermione glared daggers at Lucius as he continued to smile cruelly at her. Voldemort came into view, out of the corner of her eye, laughing. It sounded much like the hiss of a snake.

“Hmm, your new slave doesn’t seem to care for that idea.” A malicious look crossed his features. “I wonder if this one might be too much, even for your considerable talents.”

“No chance of that, my Lord.” He pulled on the chain again sending her crashing against his leg. “She’ll be broken and begging for my cock soon enough.” Hermione shook her head violently at the vile thought unable to stop herself. “Though, I admit, I will miss that spark of defiance once it’s gone.” She flinched as he stroked her hair again.

Voldemort grew suddenly excited at the direction of his thoughts. “I wonder… Will you have broken her in three months’ time?”

“Certainly, my Lord.” Hermione shook her head vigorously once more.

“There will be a blood sacrifice at that time to cement my power. You, my loyal lieutenant, shall provide the evening’s entertainment and demonstrate your prowess in this arena. Perform well and you shall be suitably rewarded.” Lucius inclined his head again watching Voldemort inspect her. Voldemort seemed as if he might touch her, pet her the way Lucius was, but then he pulled his hand back with a grimace as if he had been burnt. “By breaking Potter’s friend, the most well-known mudblood… Well, the others will learn where their place in our world lies.”

Hermione was screaming internally as Voldemort left them alone, walking away to speak to more of his sycophantic followers. She didn’t care what Lucius did to her. He could torture her to his heart’s content. She was a Gryffindor. She would not break. And in three months, when Malfoy failed to please his twisted master, she would look on with glee as his lifeless body hit the floor.

He continued to stroke her hair, petting her possessively. “I can see you thinking, pet. You think you’re too strong, too brave to break for me. And you think the Dark Lord will kill me for my failure.” He fisted his hand in her hair and pulled on her curls, drawing her gaze up to his. “You think you can resist me for three months. That three months isn’t so long.” A predatory smile found its way onto his face. “Virgins are so easy to break, and you will break. You’ll call me ‘Master’. You’ll do anything I tell you to do. Pet, it won’t take me three weeks.”

\---------------------------Three Months Later---------------------------

Hermione glanced around at the assembled witches and wizards. The outdoor amphitheater was packed. Not a seat was empty. Most in attendance were Voldemort’s followers. The rest were their slaves. Spoils of war. Most of this second group knelt at the feet of their masters. A very few stood at attention near their masters’ elbows, hands cradling bowls of fruit or goblets of wine. None of the slaves serviced their masters tonight. The show was as much for them as Voldemort’s loyal.

She saw many familiar faces, some she knew quite well, but she turned her gaze away from them. Harry knelt, chained at Severus Snape’s side. They had been fools to trust him. Had Harry not always told them he couldn’t be trusted? They hadn’t listened and look where it had led them. She had spotted Ron too, on his knees, next to the rat-faced man who had tried to take her. Her breath had hitched in her throat at the sight. He looked terrible and he was missing an eye. After that, she had kept her eyes off the crowd. It was too painful to look.

Her eyes had found Lucius then, standing near Voldemort’s erected throne. She had thought it strange at first that Voldemort had claimed no one, until she heard rumors that Nagini was more than just his pet snake. If Lucius could be believed, Snape also sometimes shared Harry with their master, and she had no reason to doubt his words. The waning sunlight glinted off Lucius’ golden hair. If she hadn’t known him, she would have thought him angelic, kissed by the sun’s rays. It was nearly dusk. Magic hour. The evening would begin soon and then it would all be over.

Voldemort stood abruptly and crossed to the center of the amphitheater’s basin. In the very center, stood a bed draped in charcoal colored silk sheets surrounded by a ring of black candles. There was no head or footboard. It seemed to float in space. Maybe it actually did. Voldemort stood next to the bed, raising his hands for silence but there hadn’t been much talking to begin with. When he spoke, he did not raise his voice though everyone assembled could hear him clearly. Hermione realized that the candles marked the boundary of an amplification spell. Once she stepped inside the perimeter, every soul present would be able to hear her no matter how quietly she spoke. “Dear brothers and sisters,” he began, “and all the rest, tonight marks three months since our victory.” Cheers greeted this announcement. “In that time, we have begun to shape our world in our image, the way it was meant to be. Tonight, the stars align for a ritual that will solidify my position. First though, I give you all a special treat. Lucius, come forward.”

All eyes were on Lucius as he crossed to kneel before his lord. He had already removed his wizard’s cloak, knowing that soon he wouldn’t be needing it. He was dressed only in a crisp, white shirt and a pair of black trousers. He was barefoot too. “Arise.” Lucius did as commanded. “You claimed Potter’s mudblood after the final battle, did you not?”

“Yes, my Lord.”

“You swore to break her before tonight.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

“And did you manage it?”

Lucius smiled. “My Lord shall be the judge of that.”

“Then bring her forward.” Lucius’ gaze came to rest on her as did everyone present in the amphitheater. He said nothing, only pointed at the ground in front of his feet. Hermione walked forward, stepping inside the circle of candles, and stopped in front of him. She kept her shoulders rigid and her eyes downcast. From the corner of her vision she could see that the bed was indeed floating and could feel that the ground was springy and forgiving beneath her bare feet. Anyone on their knees would certainly be comfortable. She supposed that meant her.

Voldemort inspected her closely. It made her skin crawl in light of all the things she now knew about him, he had only grown more repulsive in her eyes, but she did not let it show on her face. He gestured to the man beside him. “Who is this?”

She looked up, locking gazes with the man in question. “Master Lucius.” She knew her voice carried even though she spoke only to him. Lucius smiled at her response.

Voldemort nodded. “And you are his slave?”

“No.” Voldemort hissed in displeasure at her answer. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him turning sharply toward Lucius, but she never looked away from him. She didn’t care about Voldemort. She wanted to see the look on Lucius’ face, needed to see his reaction.

He was unperturbed. “Go ahead. Tell him.”

She licked her lips. “I am Master Lucius’ pet.” His eyes were full of pride at her words.

Voldemort turned back to her, his interest renewed. “Does that mean you submit to him willingly?”

She finally turned to face Voldemort, sickened by his repulsive serpent features. “Lucius is my master. When he speaks, I obey.”

“You would prove this to those assembled?” She could have sworn she saw his tongue flick out just like a snake’s and hoped Lucius didn’t order her to touch him.

“If my master wishes.”

“Your master wishes what I wish. Disrobe.” Hermione wanted to laugh at that statement but knew better. If that were true, Voldemort would have undressed her himself as Lucius would have. Lucius desired her physically, couldn’t keep his hands off her. Voldemort could barely stand to look at her. He still hadn’t even touched her. She was sure now that he never would. The deep green silk fluttered to pool at her feet and she stood naked before Voldemort and all those assembled. She waited, knowing that one wrong move could ruin the plan for the entire night and doom them all. Hermione had grown very good at waiting. Voldemort failed to hide the disgust on his face and turned back to Lucius, dismissing her. “It is not enough that she allows you to use her, Lucius. To earn your prize, you must prove beyond doubt that she knows her place. I trust you can do that.” He returned to his throne and with a wave of his hand, began the festivities.

At the gesture, Hermione pushed everything beyond the circle of candles from her mind. She couldn’t worry about her friends anymore. They couldn’t help her, and she couldn’t help them. Not right now. She was one witch and there was a hostile army surrounding her. Hermione had made her choice. There was only one way out. She fixed her gaze on Lucius and waited for his command. He lifted his hand, stroking his fingers through her hair, and still, she did not move. The corner of his mouth lifted into a grin. “You may begin, pet.”

She melted into his touch. “Thank you, Master.”

\---------------------------Then---------------------------

It hadn’t taken Lucius three weeks to make her his. She was his after the first time he had taken her, she just hadn’t realized it until much later. He’d plied her with lust potions the first several days keeping her in a constant state of arousal, hovering on the edge of pure bliss. She had fought tooth and nail against the potion’s effects for as long as possible but in the end, she had begged him to touch her, taste her, take her. He had done so thoroughly, and it had been the greatest pleasure she’d ever known.

He had swiftly followed it up with agony the likes of which she had never imagined. Nothing had been off limits, but he had mostly used potions that seemed to set her nerve endings on fire. He had used the _Cruciatus_ curse once only, claiming he didn’t want to damage his property, to demonstrate how little difference existed between the two. Whatever potion he had been using, hadn’t allowed her to habituate to the pain. Somehow it had only grown worse with each passing minute. The torture had lasted for hours at a time and as the potions wore off, he had used his hands and mouth to remind her what she was missing out on but had never once allowed her relief. Then he had dosed her again to begin the cycle anew.

At some point, he had begun to mix the agony and the bliss together introducing her to a world of sensation she had never been aware of before. He had made no demands of her, expecting her to know. Lucius’ exquisite brand of torture drove her nearly half-mad and when she had finally broken, she could no longer distinguish the difference between pain and pleasure. “ _Please_ ,” she had shrieked as he manipulated her with his fingers. “I’ll do _anything_ you want! What do want from me?”

He had paused then and it had been the last thing she had wanted at the time. “I told you what I want, pet. Have you forgotten so soon?” Need had been the only thing in her mind, consuming her, and she hadn’t been able to think, to remember what he wanted. “Shall I remind you?” She had nodded her head vigorously fighting back a whimper. He had shrugged at her with a playful smile. “I want you broken.”

She had begun crying then, great heaving sobs wracking her shoulders, catching in her chest. “ _I_ _am_.”

“You haven’t convinced me,” he had scoffed down at her prone form. “I already told what you have to do. Simply call me ‘master’ and beg for my cock.” He had waited for her reply, but the words had stuck in her throat. Then he had shrugged like it didn’t matter to him and reached for the potion.

The words had flown from her mouth in a panic as she reached out to clutch desperately at his pant leg. “No Master, please don’t!” He had paused then, contemplating. Waiting. “Please-please let me have your cock instead.” She had ducked her head in shame at how easy it had been to say. It was so easy, in fact, that she had wondered why it had taken her so long.

Lucius had put the potion away, causing Hermione to breathe a sigh of relief, and crouched down in front of her, studying her face. “Is this you begging?”

“Yes, Master.” The words had come without hesitation.

“Because you so desperately want to come?” He had whispered, insidiously.

Hermione had nearly answered him in the affirmative, but at the last second had felt as if a trap were about to spring closed on her. A small voice inside her had screamed in warning. She had shaken her head to clear the fog brought about by the potions and his presence and his expert manipulations and replied, “No, Master. I only wish to please you.”

He had narrowed his eyes, knowing that wasn’t even close to what she had wanted to say but hadn’t pressed the issue, perhaps surprised that she had passed his small test so quickly. “Who am I then?”

“You’re my master.”

“And I forget,” he said playfully, pushing her onto her back. “What are you, again?”

“I’m your pet, Master.”

“Yes, you are.” He had moved over her then, covering her body with his own. “Now beg me to let you come.”

She had spread her legs for him, watching as he had freed his cock from his trousers. “I’m begging you. Please, fuck me. Please let me come, Master.”

He had favored her with a smile. “Mmm, you beg so beautifully, pet. How could I resist.” Then he had taken her for the second time on the cold, stone floor of his dungeon, and she had writhed and moaned beneath him, screaming out her release, shattering completely. Afterwards, he had spent the next two and a half months rebuilding her in an image that better suited him.

\---------------------------Now---------------------------

She allowed him to draw her forward and tucked herself against his chest. If her friends thought she would be rescuing them tonight, they were sorely mistaken. She lifted her eyes shyly to meet his and stood up on her toes to kiss him. He was so much taller than she was, and he didn’t make it easier on her by bending down to meet her kiss. He didn’t even acknowledge her embrace. Clearly, she was meant to work for his attentions this evening. It wasn’t anything she wasn’t already used to.

A pang of guilt swept through her as it had earlier when she had untied the sash of her silk robe and Hermione wondered briefly if he were angry with her. Lucius would have wanted to pull it off her slowly, inch by inch, before finally letting it fall to the ground. She hated Voldemort for taking that pleasure away from him, resolving to make up for it, even if it hadn’t been her fault. Her hands flattened on his chest, caressing briefly over his pectorals before moving to grasp the top button on his shirt. Her movements were slow and deliberate, teasing the buttons free one by one and she planted a line of kisses down the center of his chest after each newly revealed inch of flesh was bared to her. The garment fell to the ground revealing his unmarred, alabaster skin. Hermione ran her hands over him again sensually, just the way he liked, dipping her head to draw one nipple into her mouth. She rolled the other between thumb and forefinger and her dual ministrations at last caused him to move.

His hand traveled down her back, over the swell of one round buttock, squeezing momentarily, fingertips sliding along the cleft of her arse. His fingers dipped inside, searching, finding, and gripping the smooth metal plug placed earlier as part of her preparations for the event. She arched her back, pressing into his hand, but kept her lips firmly fastened around the hardened peak of his nipple as he twisted, pulled, and worked the plug back into her. An involuntary whimper escaped her mouth. “That’s good, pet. Very good, but it’s time to move on.”

She dropped to her knees, hands reaching for the fly of his trousers, and began to undo them slowly. Hermione nuzzled her face against his trapped length as she worked the buttons free. She freed his generous erection and worked his trousers down his legs, helping him step out of them. A milky drop of fluid fell, landing on her left thigh and she looked from his cock to his eyes and back several times waiting for his signal.

He smiled down at her, a teasing look in his eyes. “See something you like, pet?”

“Yes,” her body was coiled, strung tight, like a runner at the start of a race, waiting. “May I please suck your cock, Master?”

Lucius inclined his head graciously. “Continue.” His voice was dark and smoky.

She wrapped one hand around his shaft, cradled his balls with the other and leant forward to swipe her tongue over the head of his cock. Circling her tongue around him, she sucked the head into her mouth with a whimper, teasing him for a few minutes as she caressed his shaft and balls before taking him down her throat. After two months of servicing Lucius, her gag reflex was long gone. His pubic hair tickled her nose, scrotum pressed flush against her chin and she held him there for several long moments her tongue snaking out to lick the sac pressed against her. Lucius pulled back allowing her to take a necessary breath and then thrust forward. He gripped the back of her head and fucked her throat roughly, his sac slapping her chin with each thrust until he emptied straight down her throat with a groan. She swallowed everything he gave her.

He was already hardening again when he withdrew. There was no chance of him not being able to perform tonight. He would get it up as many times as he needed to. The potion he had taken would see to that. By contrast, the potion he had given her would ensure that she couldn’t come until he allowed it. She gazed up at him adoringly, panting slightly. “Do I please you, Master?” Her voice was already slightly raw.

She could tell from the smile on his face that she had, but he declined to say so. “Stand up,” he ordered. She planted a tender kiss on the tip of his cock and complied. Before Hermione could come fully to stand at attention, he spun her about, nearly knocking her off balance, and pulled her flush against his body. He moved her hair to the side so that he could lick the shell of her ear and catch the earlobe between his teeth. “You will answer any question asked of you honestly tonight, pet. If I catch you in a lie, you’ll be punished severely. Do you understand?”

“I understand, Master.” His erection pressed into her lower back and she drew in a shaky breath when his hands cupped her breasts, toying with her hardened nipples.

“Did you enjoy the way I fucked your throat just now?” he asked, a hint of a smile in his voice.

“Not particularly, but I didn’t mind. You’ve trained me well, Master.” She could feel him nod against her and knew her answer satisfied him.

“To whom do you belong?” he whispered, roughly.

She turned to look at him over her shoulder. “You. Always. Only you.”

“Face forward.” When she did and focused on what was in front of her, she realized they were facing Voldemort’s throne. The disgusting, snake-faced creature finally seemed interested in her. He at least had his hands inside his robes. She dreaded what Lucius would say next. “There are many here who don’t believe that,” he purred in her ear.

“Master?” There was mild panic in her voice.

“Shh, _I_ believe you.” She calmed. “I’m not the one you have to convince.” Her former potions professor walked toward them. He was as naked as they were, heavy erection swaying gently with each step. He stopped several feet in front of them his hard length jutting proudly in her direction. “Do you hate Severus, pet?”

“Yes.” Her answer was immediate, filled with emotion. Lucius didn’t seem to care that she had forgotten his honorific.

“You know you’re mine because of Severus’ expert potion-making skills. You should thank him.” She had suspected Snape had been behind the concoctions Lucius had used during her training.

“Is that an order, Master.”

“It is,” his voice was clipped and dangerous.

“Thank you for my potions, Professor Snape,” she intoned in a voice devoid of emotion. “I greatly appreciate your work.” Hermione knew she sounded anything but grateful when speaking to the man.

He didn’t seem to care. “You’re quite welcome Miss Granger. I am no longer your professor, though, so ‘Sir’ will do just fine.” He looked her over blatantly. “I regret that I was unable to witness your… transformation. I understand it was spectacular. Lucius’ methods have always differed from my own. You might say they’re more refined. Less invasive.” Rage boiled inside her at the implication and her eyes flicked past Snape to where Harry still knelt.

“What are you thinking right now, pet?” Lucius whispered against her ear.

She looked back at Snape. “I want to kill him. I want him to suffer.”

“Good.” He stroked his hands over her belly, grasping her hips to grind against her backside. “You see, my sweet pet, Severus is one of those who doesn’t believe in your sincerity and he’s going to stand in for all the others.” He shoved her forward unceremoniously, sending her crashing into Snape. “Now get on your knees and prove your devotion to me.”

Snape grinned at her maliciously as she dropped to her knees with no discernable hint of hesitation. “Be certain to address me appropriately, Miss Granger.”

“Yes, Sir,” she hissed through clenched teeth and began kissing and licking his thighs, all traces of her attitude gone. She doubted it would be tolerated much longer.

He gripped her by the hair, causing her to gasp in pain, and forced her to look at him, “Lucius may enjoy being teased. I, however, do not. Get on with it.”

“Yes, Sir,” she answered, drawing him into her mouth, and employing all the considerable skill her master had gifted her with. Without warning, Snape thrust down her throat causing her to gag. She wasn’t surprised, not really, just unprepared, though she recovered quickly and began working her tongue against him as she had done for Lucius. He continued to hold her against his crotch and when black spots began to dance in her vision she started to truly panic. Her eyes flew open, meeting his, and she was alarmed by the sadistic smirk on his face. She began struggling in earnest then, frantically attempting to push him away from her, but he had the upper hand, and through her thrashing only held her more tightly to him. The world was rapidly turning dark, her struggles growing weaker.

“Severus,” came the warning growl from her master but he sounded more annoyed than concerned.

Severus favored him with a pout, hissing down at her, “You should count yourself fortunate that Lucius prefers you undamaged,” and released her. She fell back, gasping, coughing, and sucking air into her lungs urgently. Before she had fully caught her breath, he ordered, “Continue.” She fell upon him immediately despite her wariness, but this time he allowed her to work. Several minutes later, he released in her mouth and she swallowed until he pulled back, the final spurt splashing across her face. She saw that he had taken a potion as well. It was going to be a long night.

“Did you enjoy my tender ministrations, Miss Know-it-all?”

“No. Sir.” Hopefully he didn't catch the pause.

He made a sound of disappointment. “But you seemed so eager. Perhaps you wished to have me inside your cunt instead?” She only glared at him, the effect of her scowl lessened by his sticky contributions sliding slowly down her cheek. “It matters not what you want,” he continued. “I’ll have that and more. Your master has already decreed it.” She knew he spoke the truth. “Go to him. I wish to watch for now.”

She turned back to Lucius. He reclined on the bed, stroking his erection lazily, watching the show. He had never treated her the way Snape did, but she knew he enjoyed watching the man work. She began to stand on shaky legs and was kicked in response. “Crawl.”

She crawled forward stopping in front of Lucius. He continued to stroke himself, smiling at her. “You did very well, pet. In fact, I’m going to reward you. I’m going to let you choose the first position I fuck you in, though I suspect I know which one that is.” He stood, moving out of the way for her, and gestured toward the bed. “Take your position.” Hermione crawled to the edge of the bed, pulled herself up, and turned around, resting her lower back against the edge and propping her elbows up behind her. She widened her stance and looked to him expectantly. He stepped between her spread knees and caressed a hand over her thigh. “As I suspected.” She blushed bright scarlet. Lucius had taken her more ways than she had ever known existed, but this was one of her favorites. In this position, the head of his cock perfectly struck her g-spot with every upwardly angled thrust and she got to see the look on his face when he came. He was beautiful when he came.

Lucius gripped the back of her leg just below the rounded globe of one cheek, flinging her thigh over his hip. He guided himself into her with a single harsh thrust. She cried out, her head falling back, as he hilted inside her in perfection, and was mortified as she realized what, in her haste, she had just unwittingly chosen. Hermione looked into Lucius’ eyes and the look he returned said that he knew exactly what she was thinking. “No, please,” she whispered. Somehow, perhaps due to her anger with Snape, she had forgotten about their audience.

“You chose this,” and the head of his cock struck that same spot as it slid past. She grunted, managing to bite back most of her moan this time but she knew from past experience her resolve wouldn’t last. As he set a punishing pace, striking her perfectly each time, she shook her head from side to side, biting the inside of her cheek. She hadn’t intended for her friends to see her like this. “You know what’s going to happen, pet. So, just let go and forget about everything else. Don’t hold back.”

Before she realized just what she was doing, Hermione was meeting his every thrust, thrashing beneath him in a wholly different way than she had thrashed beneath Snape. She could feel a fire building inside her and began to plead with him in desperation, babbling near incoherently. “Faster please! Oh, I’m your pet. I’m your good pet. Please let me come, Master. I’m begging you. Please!” She didn’t care what her friends thought of her any longer. There was no thought at all in her head for them. The only thing she cared about was satisfying the burning need building inside her.

He shook his head. “You know I can’t allow that yet, pet, no matter how much you’ve earned it.” Lucius continued, reducing her to nothing more than whimpering need and at length, emptied himself inside her. She fell to the ground with a ragged scream relieved that he was no longer pounding into her, drawing out pathetic whimpering cries before those assembled. Rough hands hauled her back up. She caught a glimpse of pale skin and raven hair and then was thrown face down on the bed, her feet were kicked apart, and the blunt head of a hard cock positioned against her. He didn’t press forward.

She buried her face in the mattress in shame and pressed back, impaling herself on him. His cock slid in easily, Lucius' come slicking the way. He laughed behind her and didn’t move, forcing her to humiliate herself with each backward thrust for his amusement. Each time she met his pelvis, the plug still inside her was jostled and she clenched around it and Snape’s cock, struggling to contain her breathy moans. “I’ve changed my mind, Lucius. I think perhaps she is sincere after all.”

The bed dipped next to her. “Did I not tell you? Up on the bed, pet.” He pulled her up to join him and Snape followed behind her. Lucius plundered her mouth with his while Snape fucked her roughly from behind. She moaned into his mouth as his tongue toyed with hers and Hermione kissed him back enthusiastically, pretending, deluding herself into believing that Lucius was the one forcing the sounds from her. The delusion lasted until he spoke.

“Tell Severus how much you love his cock, pet.” It was an order, not a question. Even so, had it been a question, binding her to the truth, her answer would have been the same. Hermione wondered if that was some small mercy on Lucius' part. She would take it as such even if it weren't.

“I- I love your big cock, Sir. It feels so good.” She stared into Lucius’ eyes, unseeing, as he continued giving her orders and she obeyed each one.

“Tell him to fuck you harder. Beg for it.”

“Please, Sir-”

“Use his name,” Lucius growled in her ear.

“Please Severus, Sir. Please fuck me harder,” she moaned.

“Severus is going to fuck you like a cheap Knockturn Alley whore and you’re going to scream like one. Aren’t you, pet?”

“Yes, Master, I am.” When Snape began ramming into her savagely, she didn’t even need to pretend to scream for him. Her response was half pain and half frustration, still on edge from Lucius’ earlier denial of her orgasm. As Snape used her with no regard for her comfort, Lucius positioned himself before her, sitting with his legs spread wide on either side of her, and drew her head down to his lap. She opened her mouth eagerly to receive him. The vibrations of her moans stimulated him, and he was soon groaning and spending himself inside her again. She greedily sucked it down. Moments later, Snape stiffened behind her and she felt the twitching of his cock as it gushed, coating her insides with thick ropes of hot, sticky cum. It mingled with Lucius’ offerings and the sloppy mess dribbled out around Snape’s cock to trickle down her thighs.

They passed her back and forth between them countless times, and she lost track of how many times they had each used one of her holes or exactly when the plug had been removed and replaced with the blunt head of a stiff prick. When they finally decided it was time to position her between them and share her, she was sticky with sweat and cum. Snape seemed to particularly enjoy coming on her face, smirking at her as he did so, and her hair was a mess with it. Her skin felt over-sensitized, like her nerve endings were raw, and she was nearly out of her mind with something that felt remarkably like lust but which she knew wasn’t.

Snape wasn’t quite as rough as he fucked her arse this time. It had nothing to do with him choosing to be gentle though. She was in Lucius’ lap and he was balls deep inside her with the better angle, cock so deep it was almost like he was a part of her. Hermione clutched at his shoulders leaving little half moon indentations in his skin as she met Lucius’ thrusts, Snape as much of an afterthought as possible. It wasn’t easy though. She had never felt so full.

“Focus, pet.” Lucius hungrily captured her mouth with his momentarily before he abruptly released her. She collapsed against his chest, burying her face in his neck, feeling filled completely in every way, near to bursting. She could hear Lucius and Snape moaning into each other’s mouths briefly and then Snape’s head was on her shoulder. He bucked into her harshly with a grunt, spilling himself one final time and Hermione knew without looking that Lucius had bitten him. It was time. Snape licked her neck once and then bit down hard, sucking her blood into his mouth and swallowing. A split-second later, Lucius’ blood flowed from his shoulder, the hot coppery fluid sliding down her throat. She sucked greedily, bouncing on both their cocks as a thunder-crack and a white-hot light engulfed the three of them at the exact same moment that she finally came.

Hermione was still incoherent with the bliss following her release so, she never actually saw it happen, not with her own eyes. She felt it and saw it within her mind from two different perspectives. They were mirror images of each other: one light, one dark. One took from her and the other gave. They both had an arm outstretched, magic flowing from her, through them. The three of them were now inextricably linked until parted from each other by death and that wouldn’t be happening any time soon.

\---------------------------Six Days Earlier---------------------------

“Reverberation is a triad ritual, pet. It takes three people to make it work. It also works much better if you're willing.” Hermione could hear in Lucius’ voice that he was rapidly losing patience, and she might pay for it later, but she pressed on regardless.

“But why _him_?” she questioned, upset by Lucius’ stubbornness. “Why not someone else?”

Anger flashed in his stormy eyes. “Firstly, it’s not your place to question my decisions. Secondly, I would trust no one else with this task. Despite what you think, Severus is loyal. I just happened to secure his loyalty long before Dumbledore or Voldemort.” He placed a finger under her chin and forced her to look at him. “Whom else did you have in mind? Hmm? Draco?” he asked with a sneer. “I love my son, but he is weak. There is no one else.”

“I don’t want that traitor to touch me, Master,” she whispered morosely, tears slipping down her cheeks.

He kissed her lips tenderly, “I know, pet, but Severus will soon be your master too.” He pulled her to him, allowing her to sniffle quietly against his chest. “I’ll make you a promise. I’ll swear an unbreakable vow if you require it.”

Lucius was rarely so generous, and she was unable to stop herself from asking, “What promise?”

“He’ll be your master. There’s no changing that, but if you cooperate that night, I swear he’ll never touch you again. Consider what your cooperation will buy you. Do you not think it worth the price?”

Hermione thought about it for a moment as he held her. It was a difficult decision, but she was under no illusions that she really had much choice. The unspoken promise hung in the air that if she did not go willingly, Snape would have her again, possibly many more times. She wanted that even less.

She recalled how Snape had behaved with the little power afforded him by being a professor. “You will- will reign him in?” she asked haltingly.

Lucius nodded, “He’ll listen to me.”

Hermione swallowed thickly, determinedly. “Then tell me what you require of me, Master.”

\---------------------------Now---------------------------

Her eyes cracked open, half unfocused. In front of her, blood dribbled from the wound, three red lines trickling down Lucius’ chest. _Three lines. Three people_ , she thought to herself dazedly, still a little delirious. Hermione turned to where their arms were still raised, that blue-white glow fading from their hands. She looked past them, a pile of rubble and dust and ash where Voldemort’s throne once stood. When she had closed her eyes, one dark lord had existed and when she had opened them again, there were two. Lucius turned to look at her, his mouth stained with Snape’s blood just as hers was stained with his, the glow of magic in his eyes fading just like hers.

In truth, Lucius was truly the new dark lord. Snape answered to him. He had sworn to it. Reverberation. Ancient and powerful sex magic and they had used it to usurp Voldemort’s blood ritual. The two combined with devastating results. Throughout the night, she had served as their vessel and they had poured their magic into her, building and amplifying it until her release had finally freed it, making the three of them markedly stronger; strong enough to utterly destroy Voldemort. In theory they were equal, their magic thrice as strong at the very least, but Hermione knew the reality was far different. Snape was Lucius’ creature. Together, they were far stronger than her.

Snape pushed away from her in accordance with their agreement, leaving her alone with Lucius at last. He touched her face tenderly as the last of the magic faded from his eyes. Only the outward signs were gone though. She could still feel the change inside her. “Pet, was the price worth it?”

“It was, Master.” After all, she had decided three months previous that Lucius was the safer option. She just hadn't known to what extent she was willing to take it at the time. He kissed her, blood smearing across both their faces and pushed her down onto the bed, moving atop her once more. He had held off his own orgasm in order to celebrate his coronation as the new Dark Lord. Hermione spread her legs for him eagerly, moaning wantonly and crying out for him as he thrust home inside her.

If her friends thought she was rescuing them tonight, they were sorely mistaken.

After all, Lucius had so graciously rebuilt her when she was broken and useless. He was her master and she was his perfect pet and she belonged to Lucius, body and soul.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N Spoiler tag: Stockholm Syndrome, Major Character Death


End file.
